Falling Into You
by likes-it-bubbly
Summary: This is a prequel to my previous story SOMEONE LIKE YOU. Or just a little tale about how Perry fell in love with Della.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** This is a prequel to a previous story of mine, SOMEONE LIKE YOU, written upon request. Thanks for the encouragement, ladies. I hope you will enjoy the ride. :) I still don't own these characters, but I love to explore the possible twists and turns of their private lives.

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><p><strong>FALLING INTO YOU<strong>

Perry Mason didn't remember the exact day when things had changed for him. When his perception had shifted, the way he looked at his secretary, noticed her scent. Suddenly he saw her beauty, not superficially - her eyes, her mouth, her skin - but that sparkle of hers from within. He knew the difference in her smile, when it was put on or when it was real, and realized that despite her warmth towards friends and clients Della Street smiled differently for him.

He had never seen himself as someone who would fall in love with a girl in his employ. But Della Street was different. He had known when she had first entered his office to look for a job a good two years ago, unannounced but utterly welcome. A chance encounter, working beautifully for them both. He had noticed the classic shape of her pretty face, had soon embraced her quick tongue and quicker mind, the efficiency of her tiny hands sifting through his morning mail. He had soon learned that Della didn't work her typewriter at full speed to get his attention, didn't bring him coffee to get herself a wedding ring. Miss Street loved to work, didn't mind overtime and complemented him where he needed order. She was like him in many ways, unconventional and diligent, and yet so lusciously different. She was a lady surrounded by impostors in a city of fake promises and smiles. His one in a million, steadfast and loyal despite his many peculiarities, never fishing for compliments but always welcoming them with a humble smile.

"Della?" Perry Mason shouted from behind his desk through the open door to the adjoined office of his confidential secretary.

"Yes, sir," Della gave back, already standing in the doorway with her pad and pencil in hand. "Are you ready for your dictation now?"

The lawyer took in the sight before him. As usual, her skirt was advertising her curves with class, her matching blouse and cardigan proper and decent, her hair curled up perfection. His eyes lingered on her brunette crop, peppy and elegant. And suddenly he wondered how long it took her to get her hair to look that way, if her curls were natural and tamed or created by bobby-pins each night. What it would take to see her hair curled up, what she would have him do? How her face looked without her makeup, how her mouth tasted with that lipstick...

"Chief?" Della ripped him out of his thoughts, a small smile playing around her lips.

"Did you have lunch already, Miss Street?" Mason surprised her with his question, broadening his secretary's smile as she leaned against the door frame, patting her notepad with her pencil in a bemused manner.

"Not yet," the girl Friday replied, then stopped her pencil and held it in position to take his order. "But fire away. What do you want me to get?"

Perry Mason shook his head. "Nothing. I'd like to buy you lunch instead," he said in a smooth voice that underlined the longing look in his eyes.

Della chuckled and blushed. "Oh," she said, pushed herself away from the door frame to stand straight and lowered her notepad, her shoulders unusually tense. "I suppose dictation can wait then."

"You don't have to join me if you'd rather stay in," Perry added quickly, sensing an uneasiness he was unfamiliar with.

"I just thought you had an appointment for lunch," Della Street replied demurely.

"I did," the lawyer agreed. "But my plans have changed." She didn't have to know that she had been the reason for his change of heart, that he had canceled the scheduled luncheon on his own account. That he'd rather spend the afternoon looking at her than listening to a room full of lawyers patting their own shoulders.

"So, are you ready to go?" Perry waited and watched his secretary as she was debating what to do. Her face didn't tell him anything beyond a small, polite smile. What he would give to see her at ease now, her eyes warm and loyal, her mouth curled up to display her contagious joy.

"I'll tell Gertie where to find us," Della finally said, still a little uptight.

"Do that." Mason nodded approvingly, then got up and walked around his desk to meet her in the doorway, stopping her on her way out by resting his hand on her arm, gently squeezing it to support his words.

"Is something wrong, Della?" He asked quietly, his eyes melting with hers.

"Not at all," the secretary lied, her face giving it away.

Della didn't flinch when his hand held her arm a little too long, when his gaze pierced her soul. She stood still despite the jolt his fingers sent through her when he finally reached up to caress the back of her neck, his hand slowly cupping the side of her face to draw her into a tender kiss.

He knew he loved her when she gasped a silent _don't_ without rejecting his imprudent kiss. She was gentle in her response, reminding him of the risk of exposure although she so clearly wanted to kiss him again. It was the way she didn't mention his advances afterwards, didn't brag but blushed when his hand brushed against hers days later. It was her unchanged poise despite his longing, her wardrobe far from wicked, her dignity turning him on. And that growing twinkle of mischief, those moments when she dared to linger, resting her eyes so comfortably on his. When she chanced to caress his pinky with her own or fixed his tie to find an excuse to stand close to him. He had come to live for those minutes, those mere seconds, always gone too soon, too often interrupted by Gertie, Jackson or a case.

Really, Perry Mason did not know when it all had started, when Della had entered his mind as more than who she was supposed to be. But with each new week it became harder for him to resist, her mouth too skillful and inviting, her kiss delicious, arousing him from head to toe.


	2. Chapter 2

**FALLING INTO YOU, TOO**

Della knew she would get in trouble working for him. She had that feeling when she walked through the door to apply for a job he hadn't advertised but wished to fill. She knew when he flashed her a dimple smile, siding with her over a remark from his investigator friend, making her blush from deep within. She took a liking to his manners, started teasing him early on, taking him up on his invitation to almost always speak her mind. She fell in love when he let her sleep on the office couch long after he had returned from following a lead too early in the morning, when he told her she looked gorgeous although her eyes were puffy and her outfit was creased, when his hand first touched her upper arm in a gentle squeeze. She was nervous when his lips finally brushed against hers, when he nibbled at her trembling mouth while she was mumbling a _don't _and swallowed the _stop_. She couldn't believe the bliss and the joy he made her feel, the tenderness of his kiss such a contrast to his fierceness in court. His mouth begged her to love him, making it hard for her to break away while his eyes caressed her all over, reflecting barely controlled desire, reminding her of the vulnerability of the situation. Della knew she was risking her reputation when she allowed him to pull her onto his lap, when his hands dropped below her waist, bringing her to the verge of scandal as he sought her skin while his tongue undid their lip-lock innocence. But Perry Mason never pushed her to bed him, never violated her chastity beyond an ardent kiss. At the office, she could trust him to be a gentleman with the privilege to blur her boundaries while deep inside she craved nothing more than to please him like a wife.

"Let's go home, Della." Perry Mason rubbed his tired eyes after a long day at the office.

Della Street stifled a yawn and stretched her limbs, unaware of his admiration for her flexibility she so naturally displayed to him. She was tired to the bones and happy to hear that he wished to call it a night.

"It's already pushing midnight," the attorney groaned and watched how his secretary opened her drawer in his desk to put her notes away.

"Then we better hurry," Della remarked with a playful smile. "Or I'll turn into a pumpkin before you know it."

Mason laughed. "I bet you'd be delicious," he teased and pulled her towards him for a rejuvenating kiss.

"Wouldn't you want to know?" Della smirked, then blushed.

"Indeed I would," Perry said, unwilling to hide how much he enjoyed seeing her embarrassed for her wicked tongue.

"Come on," he continued and placed soft kisses onto her crimson cheeks. "I'll take you home."

Della nodded, anticipation tingling in her chest when she pulled away from him and waited for him to throw his coat loosely onto his shoulders, making room for her to hide away in his arms. Feeling warm and safe, she nestled her head against his heaving chest while he stopped to open the backdoor and switch off the lights.

"Now Miss Street," the attorney whispered onto her head, burying his lips in her hair. "Aren't we affectionate tonight?"

"I'm tired. I get cold when I'm tired," Della replied innocently and welcomed his arm dropping from her shoulders to her waist.

"So we better keep you warm," Perry Mason accepted her invitation, unsure how safe a ground he was walking on at this time of night.

"I'd like that,"his secretary purred, reluctant to part from him until they would reach the elevator to look respectable.

"How's this for starters?" Mason asked tenderly when he wrapped his coat around her lonely shoulders.

"It's a poor substitute," Della Street admitted, getting comfortable in his coat, then smiled. "But it smells good."

"That will have to do for a while," Perry replied with a smug grin. "How about a little detour on our way home?"

Della shook her head and squeezed his hand as he locked the door. "Not tonight," she said in a sizzling voice.

"Filet Mignon, Lyonnaise potatoes?" The lawyer tried to win her over. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not for food," Della thought and gave him a seductive look. "Just take me home."

"All right," Perry Mason said quietly, unsure if by touching her he would break the spell of an enticing night.

When they reached her apartment house fifteen minutes later, Mason parked his car and looked at Della who had snuggled up against him for the short distance drive. He seemed to wait for her to detach herself from him, his body language unusually uptight, his eyes intense.

"Won't you come up?" Della finally asked in a shy little voice.

Perry moved his hand lovingly over her shoulders to her upper arm over the slim line of her waist down to her hip.

"I shouldn't," he answered truthfully. "I'd stay."

Della tilted her head to look at him. "I wouldn't mind."

"Maybe not now, but tomorrow," the attorney answered quietly.

"Not if you only hold me for a while," the secretary whispered as she moved her fingers over his chest in a soft caress.

"I'm not sure I can do that, Della," Perry Mason answered honestly, his eyes tender and warm. Then he lifted her head enough to capture her mouth with his, doubling her desire for more of him.

"I'll see you in the morning," Mason said in a trembling voice, his appetite for her now evident to them both.

Della looked deep into his eyes and placed a kiss onto his neck so soft it sent shivers down his spine.

"I was hoping this was a door to door service, counselor," she teased, then parted from him and slid out of the car on two elegant feet.

Perry hesitated for a moment, then followed her lead. Together, they walked into Della's building, passed the night clerk without raising suspicion and entered the elevator without speaking a word. On their ride up to Della's floor, Perry gently brushed his hand against hers, unable to look into her eyes. When they finally reached her apartment door, he observed how Della was fishing for her keys, her face a mask of grace and quiet while her hands were shaking from agitation.

When she opened her door, he waited for his secretary to bid him in with a nervous smile. Then he closed the door behind him, pressed his back against the rough wood and held out his hand to pull Della towards him. She eased into his embrace without hiding her coy intentions and met his mouth for a lingering kiss. When she broke away to catch her breath, she held out her hand to hold him at bay, her face flushed and glowing. Then she met his gaze with her darkened pair of brown, dropped his coat to the floor and stepped out of her shoes in what felt like slow motion.

"There's no turning back from this," she whispered, her voice trembling from desire and bashfulness.

"If you want me to leave, baby, say so now," Perry replied, low and calm. Then he closed the gap between them and pulled her into another kiss, gentle and soft until his tongue captured hers to arouse her all over, increasing her wish to make love to him.

Della knew she may come to regret this step, that eventually she would have to walk away. But right now his hands inflamed her skin as he unwrapped her from her proper clothes, landing improperly on the living room floor. And although her gut told her to be careful to cross this line, the way he treated her to find satisfaction undid all the doubts and remains of self-restraint.

"I want you so much," Perry groaned as he lifted her up into his arms, overwhelmed by her whispered confession of love.


End file.
